A Choice
by HouxBelle
Summary: Sansa is rescued from the Vale by Brienne and Jaime. While Sansa has left Alayne Stone back in the Vale, some things creep back in. On one such night, she finds comfort she had not expected. inspired by the photo from,


She'd been rescued from the Vale, from Littlefinger and from her life as Alayne.

When Jaime and Brienne had shown up, it had taken her a while to respond to her name, so used to hearing Alayne and not Sansa. In the end, though, she rode away from the Vale with Petyr's blood on her hands and her eyes faced forward, never looking back, and feeling less like Sansa Stark than she ever had.

Yet now and again, little things, things that should mean nothing, would take her back to the Vale, to Alayne, to Petyr's touches and sweet robin's lifeless body.

It was Ser Jaime's turn to guard her. Brienne and he took shifts. She'd been wary of the man at first but it appeared all the Lannister bravado and arrogance had been taken away when his hand was. All that was left was, well, Sansa wasn't sure what he was. He was complicated, to say the least. She had spent some time speaking with him, even joking with him a bit, flirting here and there, much to Brienne's annoyance. Yet even under his charm, she could see a deep sadness. He intrigued her.

She'd been laying on her side on a bedroll in the only tent they had, while Brienne snored, ever the hard sleeper she was, and Jaime stood watch.

He'd thought she'd been asleep and she'd tried to, truly, but something about Ser Jaime's presence recently had put her body on alert. Not the kind of alert that meant danger, as it had been with Petyr or Joffrey, but a different kind, one of a more curious nature.

So when he'd taken his golden hand off, for the first time she'd ever seen it removed, she couldn't help but watch. Watch his every move. Then when he set it down beside him, not but a few inches from her, she blinked and was back in the Vale. His hand a golden comb sitting at her bedside while she listened to the horrid sounds her aunt Lysa made as Petyr and she fucked. Then the room filled with water and she began to drown.

Panic rose in her chest and she shot up in fear, gasping for breath, clutching at her throat.

"Lady Sansa" Jaime's voice brought her back to reality and she looked at him, almost sure she had to look fightfully wild.

His good hand was on her knee, it appeared he had jostled it to take her from her trance.

"I was back there" she said frantically "back at the vale with him and then there was water everywhere and I was drowning and…." she babbled and then tried to catch her breath.

"You're safe, Lady Sansa, you're with Brienne of Tarth and Ser Jaime Lannister. We are making our way North to take you to the wall, to your brother Jon." he explained bringing her back to the moment.

She nodded and then looked down at her knee.

Her gaze seemed to make him realize his hand was still there and he removed it quickly as if it was on fire.

Then he started to move away. Before Sansa really knew what she was doing, her hand went out and grasped his good one.

"Don't go….please" she said, never forgetting her courtesy.

"Lady Sansa" he said as if he was fighting something. She wasn't sure what it was but something in her wanted that something he was fighting to win.

"Please, don't leave me" she begged.

She looked him over then. His eyes were dark and his jaw was clenched. His eyes kept flickering to a place on her body.

Looking down it was then she realized her shift was quite see through, her nipples peaked through the material. When she returned her gaze to him, she saw shame.

He wanted her.

Was that what her feeling for him had been? Want? It looks so familiar on his face.

She knew what Petyr would say. That she was being too obvious. Let him want you but don't give in. A lady doesn't give in. She knew what her septa would have said and her Lady Mother. Yet in that moment, as she returned his gaze, uncaring if he saw her, she'd never felt freer. She'd had so little of pleasure and choice, why not take advantage of both while they were there.

Closing the distance quickly between them she pressed her lips to his. She'd kissed men before. Petyr had taught her well but she removed all her lessons from her mind and moved on pure instinct.

At first, his lips had been stiff and she began to pull back but that was only for a moment. Soon he was matching her in intensity. Then she pulled on him and he fell to the ground next to her. They're lips never left one another and soon his tongue was teasing her lips. She opened and welcomed him, both groaning at the sensation.

"Sansa" he said disconnecting the kiss. The words a warning, that they should stop, that they shouldn't do what Sansa desperately wanted them to do.

"Jaime" she whined "please" pressing her body against his.

From there on, it appears as though he's given in, for his hand comes up and kneads at her breast and toys with her nipple through the shift. She moans in his mouth at the touch and her body shudders. He stays there a long while, as they both continue kissing. Yet Sansa can feel the dampness between her legs and her eyes catch his arousal through his trousers.

When she pulls his hand from her breast and under her small clothes, it's his turn to moan.

"Fuck, Sansa" he says as his fingers tease her slit. "You're so wet"

The words shoot fire through her stomach, unlike she'd ever felt before.

With Petyr the first time, she'd been drugged, and that's when she'd killed him.

Now, with Jaime, his fingers teasing her slit, she'd gladly welcome this feeling.

Her hand reached down and grazed the bulge in his pants, causing him to curse once more and then retreat his hand from her and begin to undo the laces on his pants. She, more gracefully than she'd expected, slipped out of her small clothes as Jaime pulled his manhood out.

Larger, much larger than Petyr. She couldn't help licking her lips when she saw him and she noticed Jaime swallow hard next to her as she did.

A tentative hand reached out and grasped him, followed by Jaime's groan. She teased the underside with her fingers and felt a bit of wetness at his tip, gripping him and sliding her palm up and down. Turning to look at Jaime's face she could see that he was trying hard not to buck into her hand.

Removing her hand she then pressed on his shoulder, having him lay on his back now and she straddled him. She looked at him a moment for approval and she couldn't help the smirk that grew on her lips when he nodded fervently.

Lifting herself up she slowly sank down onto him. Jaime's hand came over his mouth to stifle a groan of his own, that truly would have been loud enough to wake the sleeping Brienne.

Thankfully Sansa seemed to be gasping mostly.

Once she was fully sheathed in him she allowed herself to still for a moment, she felt so full, so complete with him inside her.

"Like riding a horse" Mya had told her, one night when they talked of sex and practiced kissing.

So she leaned up and began rocking against him, her eyes locked with his. She bit her lip as she came down on him and then began rolling her hips. That seemed to be the right thing to do because he all but growled and gripped her thigh with his hand, his stumped arm resting on her other thigh.

"Jaime" she whispered "gods Jaime"

"Sansa" he echoed as they called to one another.

Soon his left hand came from her thigh and began rubbing at the apex of her sex again, as he had before, as she had so many nights alone in the Vale. This caused her to throw her head back in pleasure with a sharp intake of breath.

"Yes, Jaime, yes" she moaned as he rubbed tight circles as she rode him.

Sooner that she would have liked she felt it, the tight heat in her stomach. In mere moments she was clenching on him and it appeared to be rather tightly. Her whole body spasmed and relaxed. That was better than any feeling she'd ever tried to produce herself.

She felt her body growing weaker though she tried to keep going for him.

He seemed to sense this and leaned forward. She allowed him to flip their position, where he was on top and she found she enjoyed his arms caging her in.

Wrapping her legs around him she lifted her hips meeting each of his thrust.

"Yes, oh gods, yes, Sansa" he groaned and soon his hips were thrusting into her so erratically she couldn't keep up with him.

Then he slid out of her quickly, much to her chagrin, pumped himself in his hands all the while looking at her and spilled his seed on her belly with a loud growl that made him sound like the lion he was.

He fell over her, onto his hand and forearm, still caging her in. She took the opportunity to grab his face and kiss him again.

He melted into the kiss but when it disconnected her looked at her with questioning eyes.

"Sansa, what was that?"

_Sex, Ser Jaime._ She wants to say but she knows what he's asking.

"A choice."She says simply. "I've got to choose very little in my life and tonight I chose you. I've been wanting to for a while now."

He looked flattered.

"But I'm a broken man, an enemy of your house, I'm twice your age, why would you want to…."

She silences him with a kiss.

"You pleased me greatly and I think I pleased you….unless of course you don't want me" she began.

"I want you" he said quickly. "But…"

"But what?" she asked with a smile "I know about your past, Ser Jaime, I know the risk and I don't care. Why can't I just have you? Does there need to be a good reason?"

"The Northern Lords…"

"Haven't done a damn thing for me" she said candidly. "And I can handle them"

He seemed like he wanted to fight more but her thumb came up and brushed the edge of his lips. "Be my golden knight" she whispered.

Turning his face, he kissed into the palm of her hand and nuzzled into it.

Suddenly she felt more like Sansa Stark than she had in her entire life and it was oddly enough with a Lannister between her legs.

"WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS!" came the voice of Brienne.

Apparently, they'd awakened her.


End file.
